


All That Really Matters

by faikitty



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Mistletoe, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2712074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faikitty/pseuds/faikitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Milla enjoys her first real Christmas as a human and Alvin and Jude kiss beneath mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Really Matters

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the gayest thing I've ever written. It was a request from my girlfriend. Suppose that might have something to do with it?

It’s Christmas.

More precisely, it’s a couple of days before Christmas, and the whole crew is gathered at Driselle’s mansion in Sharilton to celebrate it. Driselle was entirely onboard with the idea, under the one condition that they help her decorate the mansion, and Milla whole-heartedly agreed, eyes shining, exclaiming that this would be her first proper Christmas since she became a human.

Driselle drags  the rest of the girls (and Rowen) out for shopping, saying something about getting presents, but Milla remains home, too interested in the ridiculous number of decorations to be pulled from their midst. Alvin and Jude stay too, Jude out of worry that Milla will accidentally hang herself on the tangled lights and Alvin simply because he wants to. He watches, reclined one of the couches in the foyer, as Milla digs through boxes while Jude frets about her like a mother hen.

It doesn’t take long before Milla unearths a box full of Christmas _clothes_ , and Alvin can’t make his getaway in time. She shoves a hideous sparkly green sweater with little lights in the fabric toward him, and his scarf is ripped from his neck and replaced by a wreath. He thinks Milla might be a bit confused about how exactly Christmas decorating is _supposed_ to go, but it’s funny—and, admittedly, a little endearing—to watch her bustle about with the excitement of a child. So he slips on the ugly sweater and leaves the wreath hanging from his neck without complaint.

Jude doesn’t escape either. When he wanders out of one of the bedrooms, antlers on his head and his cheeks the same shade of red as the little ball stuck to his nose, Alvin considers himself lucky to have escaped with a gaudy sweater and wreath that belongs on a wall. The look Jude gives him, silently ordering him not to say a word, is so desperate that Alvin couldn’t talk if he wanted to, can’t get catch his breath with how hard he’s laughing. A punch is what eventually shuts him up, and even then, the tears in his eyes are more from laughter than pain.

“I’m going to get another box from upstairs,” Jude huffs, and he disappears, leaving Milla and Alvin alone in the foyer.

Milla rummages through another box while she waits. “Alvin, can you put this above the door for me?” she holds out a small sprig of green and white, and the mercenary takes it from her without giving it a second glance. He’d honestly rather just lean back and watch, but there’s no real harm in helping a little. Watching can get boring after awhile, and…

At that thought, he realizes what he holds in his hands. _Mistletoe_.

Now this… _This_ he can have fun with.

He lingers in the doorway, examining the mistletoe as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, until he spies Jude coming back with a large box of decorations in his hands. Alvin steps forward and pretends to be totally engrossed in his task of hanging the plant, and Jude runs into him before he can stop. The boy opens his mouth to apologize, but when he follows Alvin’s gaze to the mistletoe above them, all that comes out is a soft “oh.”

“Jude? What’s wrong? Did you get the decorations?” Milla asks, popping up behind Alvin and glancing up at the plant now hanging in the doorway.  Her expression changes then to one of fascination and anticipation. “Oh! I’ve read about this! When two people stand together under the plant known as ‘mistletoe,’ they have to kiss. It used to be thought to possess mystical powers which bring good luck to the household and wards off evil spirits. It—”

“Shh. You’re like a walking textbook. But you’re completely right,” Alvin agrees. “People kiss if they’re under it, and that’s the important thing.” He props his elbow against the doorframe and smirks down at Jude, who refuses to meet his eyes.

“I _know_ what mistletoe is,” the boy mutters, face growing increasingly crimson. He sets the box down at his feet and looks warily between the two. “Did you plan this?”

“No, of course not,” Alvin starts, but he’s interrupted by Milla.

“I thought it looked like mistletoe, so I wanted it to be hung above the doorway so I could see people kiss,” she explains with the tone of a scientist, as though her interests were purely observational. “I’ve never seen humans kiss outside of drawings. People in Nia Khera considered such things to only be appropriate behind closed doors. I’ve been curious about what it’s like for awhile.”

Jude doesn’t seem convinced. “So you want to watch Alvin and me kiss instead of doing it yourself,” he states slowly.

Milla shrugs. “I’m not the one under the mistletoe, so I can’t do it.”

“That’s… not how… You can kiss someone _without_ needing to be under—“

“Leave her be, kid,” Alvin breaks in, growing tired of the discussion. “She can watch. If she wants a show, let’s give her one.” He makes an exaggerated kissy face at Jude and leans down, and the boy shrinks back against the doorframe. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never kissed someone before.”

“I have!” Jude says quickly, _too_ quickly, and he seems to realize that as his blush reaches his ears.

 _This is_ adorable, Alvin thinks, but he feels a pang of guilt at the premise of taking Jude’s first kiss only to mess with him. “Hey, if you haven’t, that’s okay,” he says, and he’s _about_ to say they don’t _have_ to kiss, it’s only a dumb tradition anyway and they’re both guys on top of that, when Jude stands on his toes and presses a kiss to his lips.

It lasts only an instant, chaste, nothing more than the light brushing of lips against one another, but somehow that’s almost _worse_. He can _almost_ taste Jude, but it’s too quick for him to really even do that. He hardly has time to return it, let alone _relish_ it, and he almost feels cheated even though he hadn’t intended to take it seriously in the first place. The brief contact of skin on skin as Jude touches trembling fingers to his face to steady himself fills Alvin with electricity. It’s all he can do not to gather Jude up in his arms and pull him in deeper, make him really _feel_ that kiss, Jude’s _first_ kiss, and _oh my god, I just took his first kiss_. The abrupt realization, partnered with the shock of Jude having actually kissed him to begin with, causes him to freeze completely and stay still even after Jude has retreated.

Milla’s voice is what pulls him back. “That was too short for me to really observe,” she complains, tapping her own lips with the tips of her fingers in thought.

Alvin jumps at the opportunity. “We could try again,” he suggests. He wraps an arm around Jude, pulls him back against him, and pretends to kiss his cheeks while the boy yelps and tries to escape. If one of those kisses happened to land, well, it wouldn’t be a bad thing.

But now Jude is swatting at him and Milla is laughing and Alvin can’t really pretend to kiss him anymore because of the smile that’s making its way onto his lips, and even with a scratchy wreath around his neck and his continued existence in a world that’s not his own, he thinks it will be a good Christmas.


End file.
